


You Put the 'Light' in 'Delightful'

by rockthecliche



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, NewS (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-03
Updated: 2012-02-03
Packaged: 2017-10-30 13:32:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/332270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockthecliche/pseuds/rockthecliche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here in Osaka, time slows and there's no one but them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Put the 'Light' in 'Delightful'

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote most of this on a 13 hour flight back from the motherland.

Massu’s kisses taste like honey and lemony sunshine and a sweetness that’s inherent; a sweetness only Ryo can pick out, the distinctiveness swirling around on his lips, down his chest, through his stomach, circulating around his body – pulsing vibrant, making his head swim with something lazily pleasant. And when Massu’s in one of his private, sunnier-than-normal moods, it radiates through the fingertips on Ryo’s waist, soaking through the fabric of his shirt and into his skin; Massu’s lips are sure and genuine, gently moving against Ryo’s – slow, unhurried, with all the time in the world just for them to share.

Perhaps that inherent sweetness is what drew Ryo to Massu to begin with, since no one else could see any other reason why. Ryo himself had been surprised, doubting himself left and right, chalking it up to exhaustion or some other equally convenient excuse he came up with to try to justify sleeping on his band mate’s shoulder all the time. But that was just how they always were; Ryo doesn’t think about it much now because it really doesn’t matter, but he wonders at times if it makes sense to have a relationship based on not much communication but lots of mutual understanding. Maybe a relationship where both people tend to wear their hearts on their sleeve can work after all. Perhaps especially so in this case, when Ryo always looks how he feels, and Massu’s not used to being in a less-than-sunny mood and so when he is, it shows in spades.

“What are you thinking about?” Massu’s voice rings out, wisps of breath brushing against his ear. Ryo shakes his head, exhaling slowly, burying his face into the bright green fabric on Massu’s shoulder as the train sways gently side to side. Massu doesn’t ask again; Ryo plucks the earbud from Massu’s fingers and reaches up, putting it back in place for him. There’s an hour or so left in their ride from Tokyo to the Shin-Osaka station and Ryo falls asleep after a short while.

Massu shakes him awake when they arrive; Ryo shoves him along the train’s corridor when he jokingly whines about having to do laundry already to get the drool off his hoodie.

He knows Massu’s OCD is ticking rampant when they finally get to his apartment, but it’s not something he can help since he’s in Tokyo twice as much as he’s in Osaka these days. There’s a layer of dust everywhere and it even makes Ryo frown in slight disgust, but Massu’s already on his way to fetch the cleaning supplies from the bathroom. Ryo doesn’t try to help anymore; when he does, Massu just tsks and does it again because apparently, Ryo is incapable of cleaning anything.

So while Massu cleans, Ryo gets groceries and cooks. He tells Massu so, who protests half-heartedly, insisting that takeout is fine, but he does it knowing it’s useless since this is what Ryo does when they come back, as a thank you for cleaning the apartment.

It’s strange to think that this has already become a set pattern when they go on their trips to Osaka. They don’t happen often, maybe twice a year since they always wait until they both have a weekend off, but they find that they always occur around the time they both need it most, usually after months of endless promoting and touring and headache-inducing jimusho stipulations. It was Massu’s idea – all phones off, Ryo can spend a few days truly at _home_ to recharge and Massu can leave obligations behind and be a little more reckless in the fun-loving city of Osaka. Of course, ‘more reckless’ merely means buying both ridiculously printed pairs of pants rather than choosing the one, but if that’s his definition of living on the wild side, Ryo isn’t going to push it.

Ryo _does_ push for sex approximately forty-two minutes after dinner, though, when they’re lounging on the sofa and watching a rerun of some drama, because Ryo is a strapping young male with needs and he doesn’t remember the last time they had sex – he’s proud of himself for holding out for as long as he did. Massu mouths the answer against his neck – three weeks, two days – as hands fumble and tug and touch, all at the same time. There’s a bit of a proud thrill every time Ryo manages to rile Massu up like this – he vaguely thinks about what fangirls’ reactions would be if they saw their beloved Massu now, eyes smoldering with lust, fingers pressing into Ryo while his voice drops an octave, dripping sensuality, and he shivers as he thinks that it’s all for him only.

Then Ryo thinks about what they would think if they saw _him_ now, voice keening with need, hips canting backwards a bit so Massu’s fingers hit _just right_ , clearly no concern for the sofa Massu dusted off two hours ago as he wrings the fabric in between his fingers. Massu’s free hand slides down Ryo’s side and rests on his hip as he presses their lips together; the only sounds filling the room are their soft sighs and breathy moans. Ryo’s hand is trembling as he tears a condom open and rolls it on the other; his fingers slip as he tries to get the cap of the lube off, but Massu’s there, always there, helping him twist the cap off. Ryo merely pours lube onto his palm and Massu grins, murmuring a cheeky, “You’re welcome,” into his ear. If his hand wasn’t so busy tending to other, far more important matters, Ryo would’ve swatted him one.

The thought disappears, though, when Massu pulls his fingers free and Ryo bites down onto Massu’s plump lower lip when he feels the other’s cock nudging at his entrance, as if asking for permission even though he was the one with all the control. And when Massu finally, _finally_ allows Ryo to sink down onto him, he buries his head into Massu’s shoulder again, holding his breath until he’s fully seated on Massu’s lap.

“Fuck,” Massu breathes, rolling his hips forward a tiny bit, pressing into Ryo even deeper. Ryo groans, hips rolling in response; he rises up until he’s almost completely off, and in one fluid motion, sinks back down. He repeats this a few times, the both of them still trying to find the best place to place hands, hips moving and shifting until they find the right angle, and when they do, Ryo begins to ride him in earnest. He throws his head back, crying out when Massu’s hands finds his hips and begin to guide them, snapping their hips together – Ryo works his hand over his cock as the buildup intensifies and his last thought before coming blindingly hard is that he’s also pretty proud of how long he lasted, despite not having had sex in three weeks and two days.

When Ryo comes out of his post-orgasmic haze, he pulls Massu into a kiss as he works his hips in rhythm with Massu’s thrusts, and it isn’t long before Massu’s biting down on Ryo’s lip, pulsing inside him. Ryo sighs in contentment, breathing in Massu’s moans as they fall against the back of the sofa. Neither of them says anything for a bit, completely happy with staying as they are, although after a bit, Ryo’s not as comfortable, and so he diligently raises himself up and off Massu’s lap. He even goes so far as to remove the condom and ties it off for Massu, because he is a caring and loving boyfriend in the wake of being thoroughly fucked.

He doesn’t miss Massu’s wary look when he casually tosses it into the garbage can, though, but pins him with a hearty stare anyway, because there hasn’t been any cuddling yet and Ryo is needy. At times. Especially after sex. However, if anyone’s mastered the ‘meaningful stare’, then it’s Massu, and so after a brief showdown, Ryo relents and rolls to the side, spreading out on the sofa as Massu gets up, grabs the garbage can and makes his way to the bathroom. There’s a flush a few seconds later, then the faucet running, and Massu reemerges with the garbage can in one hand, wet washcloth in the other.

Typical. Ryo lazily lolls his head to the side to watch the other cross the room and back to the couch, and Massu fidgets and blushes under his gaze.

“You also could have waited until we got to the bedroom,” Massu says, sitting down on the sofa anyway. “And leaving… _it_ to dry is just indecent.”

And suddenly, Ryo feels like laughing, because only Massu would complain about the mess and sheer _indecency_ of something like that. And Ryo does. Laugh, that is, and Massu looks sullen even while he wipes the both of them clean and handily tosses the washcloth into the kitchen.

“You are the lamest person I know.” Ryo recovers from his laughing long enough to say so, and he really, truly means it – except without the sting. He’s never going to be able to explain why he loves Massu the way he does; all he knows is it’s really nice not to have to mold himself to fit someone else for once. That there doesn’t have to be words to describe everything, that Ryo can just let himself feel, let his stupid, silly grins whenever he thinks about Massu do all the speaking for him.

Massu’s peering at him curiously as he settles himself on the sofa, covering Ryo’s smaller body with his own. “What are you thinking about?” he asks again, tucks his head in the crook of Ryo’s neck.

“...would it be really cliché if I said I was thinking about you?” Ryo murmurs. Massu chuckles, chest vibrating with it, rumbling slightly against Ryo.

“Yeah, a bit.”

Ryo does get a swat in this time.


End file.
